


Filing The Report

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Brian just wants to keep his damn job, Gen, Jack wants to forget, Jimmy can't let go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy Price has a hard time accepting the official story of what happened to Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. So he starts an investigation of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filing The Report

         In the end, the report was a greater fiction than anything Freddie Lounds could have come up with. Jack wrote it up personally, the heroic ode to Will Graham, killed in the line of duty as he rid the world of two monsters. Jack filed the report with Kade Prurnell, emailed a copy to Freddie Lounds and resigned from the bureau within 24 hours of the FBI’s discovery of the Dolarhyde’s body.

         Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeake Ripper and gentleman cannibal, had orchestrated his escape with his partner, Francis Dolarhyde, murdered an entire police escort, and abducted Will Graham. Once free from the police, Hannibal and Dolarhyde had taken Graham to one of Lecter’s safe houses. There, an argument had apparently occurred resulting in the death of the so-called Tooth Fairy.

         After killing his partner, Lecter had turned on Will Graham. It was only Graham’s quick thinking and a valiant struggle that resulted in the brave former agent Graham throwing both himself and Lecter off a cliff. The ultimate sacrifice.  

         Jack left the bureau, Will gave his life for god and country, and two monsters were dead. Prurnell was more than happy to cling to the fiction and sell it to the media. Only Freddie Lounds seemed to want to call bullshit, and for the first time in his life, Jimmy Price agreed with her.

         He glared at the report in his hands.

         “This doesn’t bother you at all?”

         Zeller looked up from a piece of finger he was working with.

         “You need to drop it.”

         “Don’t reports usually have forensics in them?” He waved the pages in Zeller’s direction. “This is the ending of a bad detective novel. Where’s the blood report? The fiber analysis. My fingerprint report?”

         Zeller sighed.

         “Jimmy, it’s done. Crawford’s out and Prurnell will bury us if you keep this up.”

         “Will was drinking in that house, Brian. His fingerprints were everywhere.” Price tossed the report next to the disembodied hand on Zeller’s desk. “If Will Graham was being held hostage, why were his fingerprints all over the house?”

         “Lecter liked to play games, maybe he let Will think he could escape?”

         “So Will finds an opportunity…and has some wine? Goes through the record collection? His fingerprints were all over the bookshelf!”

         “Look, you and I both know that Graham had a weird thing going with Hannibal the Cannibal.”

         “I understand the attraction, but -”

         Brian snapped his head up.

         “You UNDERSTAND the attraction?”

         “Smart, handsome, powerful, Dr. Lecter was certainly -”

         “Bat shit crazy? He ate people, Jimmy.” Brian’s shoulders dropped. “He ate Beverly.”

         “Oh really? Thank you for the reminder, Brian.” Jimmy sat at his desk with a huff. “My point is, before we knew what he was, we were all charmed. Remember that week you came to work with that terrible plaid suit coat?”

         Brian flipped him off and went back to his piece of finger.

         “Will was more affected by it than most.” Jimmy mused. “True, his clothes never really got better, but he kept putting himself in Hannibal’s orbit. He kept trying to lure him.”

         “Jack told him to.”

         “I’m not sure that’s entirely why.”

         Zeller snorted.

         “So you and Freddie are team Murder Husbands, huh?” Zeller used the piece of finger to help him make air quotes around the tabloid term.

         “This whole thing stinks and I think we need to look at it. What if they’re…” He let the sentence die on his lips and made a vague gesture.

         “What? Alive?” Zeller scoffed. “They took a swan dive off of a cliff into the ocean, man. Even if they were dry humping the whole way down, I doubt the power of true love would save them.”

         “Will survived gutting. Lecter survived countless assaults. It’s possible to survive a fall from -”

         “It’s possible. But not probable.” Zeller sighed. “You’ve been bitching about the science in the reports for weeks now, Jimmy. Look at the science. They’re fucking dead. And if Jack Crawford needs a happy bedtime story for himself, let him fucking have it. And hey, speaking of science, don’t we have to finish the report on Thing here? Prurnell actually wants that.”

         Jimmy pursed his lips. He opened up a file and started typing.

* * *

_Jack? It’s Jimmy again. Jimmy Price? Remember the guy you yelled at for 20-plus years? I’m the cute one, Zeller’s the one who thinks he looks good with stubble. Ring any bells?_

_Look, I know you’re out, but I need you. Prurnell is deleting reports and burying things, Jack. It’s a shit show. I know everyone wants this to be over, but I can’t believe you’d want him out, roaming around, even if he is with Will._

_Jack…I’ve found some things. I’m not…I’m not sure he’s dead. Either of them really. I need to talk to you. Call me back this time. Please._

* * *

One hundred and seven frames were all that was left of the truth. Four and a half seconds of indisputable fact that even Jack Crawford’s glower couldn’t dismiss. The fragment of Dolarhyde’s film that survived was grainy and unfocused, probably as a result of the camera being knocked to the ground.

Two men were circling a third, carefully looking for a weak spot. The larger of the two ran forward, leaping high, while the smaller dove under just out of frame. The film ended, but Jimmy knew the real coda involved the torn body of Francis Dolarhyde and a trail of blood to the edge of a cliff.

“What are you doing in my lab, Price?”

Jimmy started and turned from the monitor.

“The footage, I didn’t realize you’d cleaned it up so much.”

Dr. Hernandez shrugged.

“It’s my job. Or it was.” He joined Jimmy by the monitor. “Guess who doesn’t care that I’ve made this thing ready for the Criterion Collection.”

“She has a great deal of difficulty distinguishing between evidentiary process and fiction, doesn’t she?”

Hernandez tapped the screen, his mouth twisting.

“This is some of my best work, and she’s going to have it deleted in fucking days.”

Jimmy pressed his teeth into his bottom lip. He didn’t know Hernandez. It was a risk.

“Deleted from the system, sure, but not gone forever.”

Hernandez raised an eyebrow.

“Listen, if you gave me a copy.”

 “No, Price.”

“Look, you know this whole investigation is a joke. I will not let the FBI’s fear of embarrassment allow Hannibal Lecter to walk free.”

“You’ll have to find some other way, Jimmy.” Hernandez sighed. “I’m going to go get a coffee, watch my terminal for me? Make sure no annoying interlopers steal anything off my hard drive, especially in a file marked 8302.”

Jimmy nodded, his eyes crinkling.

“I’m on the case, Hernandez.”

* * *

_Hi Jack, it’s Jimmy Price. Again. Look, Hernandez cleaned up the footage we recovered from Dolarhyde. It’s Will, Jack, clear as day. He’s killing Dolarhyde with Hannibal. You can’t keep pretending this doesn’t exist, Jack. They’re working together. Or they were._

_Now maybe Will did drag them over the cliff, but what if that didn’t kill them? It wouldn’t be the first time Hannibal disappeared…Look, if you won’t listen to me, at least look at the footage. I emailed it to you._

_I’m not going to let this go Jack. Beverly doesn’t deserve a cover up. She deserves to have Lecter in a cell. Call me._ ****

* * *

         “Price, cut the bullshit.”

         Jimmy cocked his head, trying to affect wide-eyed innocence.

         “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Spencer.”

         “Prurnell doesn’t want me to go over the goddamn files again.” Spencer straightened at her desk and walked toward her filing cabinet. “She told me to delete the report I submitted. Told me it was wrong and she’d have someone else look at the blood.”

         Jimmy watched her rummage through the cabinet.

         “Did you delete it?”

         She snorted.

         “Of fucking course I did. You think I was going to go up against Prurnell over blood interpretation? Some of us don’t have time in for a pension, Jimmy.”

“You deleted your official report?”

“You’re goddamn right I did.” Finally, she extracts a file and nudges the cabinet closed with her hip. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep a hard copy.”

She held the papers out to Price. He reached for them and she drew them back.

“You stole these, Price. OK? If Prurnell gets a whiff of this…”

         “It’s me she’ll blame.” Spencer held the report out again, allowing Jimmy to take it. “Thank you, Mary.”

         “Never talk to me about this again, Jimmy.”

* * *

_So, I read Spencer’s blood report. She’s really thorough, you should have promoted her sooner. Will’s DNA is on Dolarhyde’s knife, but we knew that. What you may want to know is that Will’s DNA is all over Dolarhyde. Dolarhyde even has some tissue from Will under his fingernails._

_It’s transfer, Jack. He was fighting Dolarhyde with Hannibal. I know that doesn’t necessarily prove anything, but he and Lecter were complicit in the killing._

_I know, I know…Of course he killed Dolarhyde, right? But that’s not why I called._

_The pool of blood. The one right by the cliff? Spencer says it’s not right. Like they stood there a long time. When you combine that with the shoe prints…_

_Jack she doesn’t think there was a struggle by the cliff, she thinks they were holding each other up, maybe embracing? They’re alive Jack, I can feel it. Prurnell won’t do anything about it, but I can’t believe that you won’t. Please Jack. Please._

_This, uh, is Price by the way._

* * *

         Molly Graham should have been pretty. She probably had been a few months ago. Eyes red, face gaunt – she looked numb. She might have been, the way she clutched the scalding cup of tea in her bare hands. Walter was leading Will’s pack around their porch on some type of extended chase sequence. Jimmy was reminded for the 800th time that he didn’t like children or noisy animals, but he smiled anyway.  

         “I thought the investigation was over, Mr. Price,” Her voice was worn threadbare as she huddled close to her tea.

         “Oh! Jimmy! Please call me Jimmy.” She nodded, eyes still fixed on her mug. “The investigation is technically over, all the reports are filed. It’s just…I wanted to be thorough.”

         Molly tilted her head at the word.

         “What do you want to know, Jimmy?”

         “Did Will ever talk about Dr. Lecter? Ever try to contact him?”

         Walter and the dogs ran by, a cacophony of barks and shouts that made Molly’s mouth curl into the memory of a smile. Her mouth lost the shape when she met Jimmy’s eyes.

         “Why would Will ever try to talk to that monster?” The soft sadness of Molly’s face had hardened into something flinty and furious.

         “I’m just trying to see if they had any conta-”

         “You’re just like that bitch from TattleCrime, aren’t you? You buy into that murder husbands garbage she’s selling?” Molly’s voice was cold, her tone low enough to keep Walter from alerting to her distress. “I’ll tell you what I told her. My husband caught monsters. That’s what he did. He was a good man and a good father. He would have never-”

         Her breath caught. Molly choked on something deep in her throat but tears never came. Jimmy slid his hand across the table, fingers just brushing where she clung to the mug.

         “Please forgive me.” Jimmy turned to watch Walter in the yard, he seemed so happy as Winston chased him. “I lost a dear friend, Bev, to Hannibal. He killed her and displayed her like meat. I will always wonder if we were too close to interpret the reports. If we missed something because we hadn’t listened to Will. I want to listen to Will now, to what the evidence says.”

         Molly nodded.

         “I guess I’m just trying to find out what happened to Will. I want to make sure that we didn’t miss anything.”

         “Do you think he’s alive?”

         “I don’t think we’ve answered that conclusively.”

         “My husband is dead, Mr. Price. He would not have gone off with that monster. He would never be a murder husband. Do you honestly think that?”

         “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I hope you and Walter find some peace here.”

         Jimmy rose, brushing off his pants and knowing he’d be plucking dog hair from his coat for weeks. He held out his hand to Molly, but she clung to the mug of tea. With a nod, he headed toward his car.

         “There was a letter.”

         Something heavy sunk in Jimmy’s stomach.

         “What?”

         “That thing sent Will a letter. He didn’t tell me about it. He kept it in a drawer, hidden. I figured it was because he didn’t want to frighten me or Wally. He burned it before he left.”

         Jimmy tried to keep his expression neutral.

         “Do you know what the letter said?”

         Molly’s eyes were back on Walter.

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Jimmy found himself nodding. “Whatever you dig up, I need to know. I…I have to know.”

* * *

_Jack, it’s Kade Prurnell. I need to speak with you now…No? Nothing? Damn, I thought my Wicked Witch of the West impression was getting better._ ****

_I saw Molly today. She looks pretty good. Better than I would, anyway._

_Listen, I know you’d be upset about me bothering Will’s widow, but um, I found something. Hannibal wrote Will a letter._

_I know you know that. You and Alana probably have copies of it somewhere. But that’s not the point. The point is Will…he hid it. He hid it and he would read it. Molly said he left bed once or twice a week, and she’d hear him in the dresser rummaging for the letter. The night before he left, he burned it._

_How sure are you that Will wanted Hannibal dead? Why would he hide the letter? Why would he…You know this isn’t right, Jack. You know it. What if…you aren’t really going to sit by and let this happen again, are you?_

_Please, Jack. Please. I need someone to listen to me._

* * *

Jimmy stood on the cliff face and looked out over the rolling waves. Dr. Niels stood a foot back, drawing her coat around her.

“Is it possible?”

“Price, I’m a pathologist, not a cliff diver.”

“Please. I need to know.”

Niels snorted, the wind whipping her hair around her head.

“In all likelihood? They’re dead, Price.” She shivered. “A fall from here, the amount of their blood spilled at the scene? The rate of the waves hitting the cliff face? I don’t think they could survive.”

Jimmy’s shoulders slumped.

“Ok, so it’s impossible. I…thank you for coming out so far, Dr. Niels.”

Niels sucked her lower lip between her teeth and rubbed her hands together.

“It’s not impossible, Price. Just highly unlikely.” She considered the distance again. “The fall wouldn’t be what would kill them necessarily, exposure would be my best guess, maybe hemorrhaging.”

“So, if they had help?”

“If there was a floating trauma center nearby, sure.”

Jimmy walked Dr. Niels back to her car and stood for a long time watching the waves. He pulled out his cell.

“Brian, do we still have a list of Lecter’s known associates?” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Fine call Freddie and ask her. Oh like I didn’t know. Please Brian, don’t stutter, it makes you sound like an even bigger idiot.”

* * *

_Hello, it’s me._

_I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet, to go over… everything._

_You probably have no idea who Adele is, but please trust me that was really funny._

_See? If you answered when I called you could at least have the satisfaction of yelling at me. Jack? I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t want to talk to me. But Jack, I did some more digging. Remember the Asian lady you met in Florence? The one we were able to trace to Lecter’s Aunt? She was in the country during the escape. She flew into New York. That’s a 4 hour train ride from Hannibal, Jack. Don’t you think that’s a lucky coincidence?_

_I even found a local sheriff who took a call about a suspicious Asian woman lurking around the docks nearby. Well, the person who called to report her used a more colorful term, but maybe this miserable old racist could identify a picture of her?_

_Look, my point is this, you were right: They couldn’t have survived the fall, if they just left themselves to the mercy of the ocean. But what if someone was there, waiting. Someone who could have patched them up?_

_I’m compiling all the evidence and Jack -  What if Lecter is still alive? Forget about Will. What about Lecter? Do you really want him free to kill people and buy ridiculous suits?_

_I can’t go to Prurnell with this, Jack. But if you won’t listen I’ll find someone who will._

* * *

Brian was in the hall waiting for him when he came to work. He looked like he was going to be sick. He grabbed Jimmy by the elbow and hauled him into the men’s room.

“Prurnell is in your office waiting for you.”

Jimmy felt cold, suddenly. Brian’s grip on his arm tightened.

“Jimmy, you gotta plead ignorance. Or maybe insanity. She fucking wants blood.”

“This whole case-”

“Jimmy please don’t do this. Please man. You’re my partner. I need you to stay my partner. Do not tank your career over Will fucking Graham.”

“This is about more than-”

The bathroom door opened, Rogers from fiber analysis walked in.

“USE THE LADIES’ ROOM!” Zeller bellowed. Rogers froze in his tracks. 

“What? Fuck you, Zeller.” Rogers pushed passed them to the stalls.

“That worked for Jack all the time,” Zeller pouted.

Jimmy patted his arm.

“I was impressed.” Jimmy took a deep breath. “I should probably go see what our fearless leader wants, huh?”

Kade Prurnell was sitting at Jimmy’s desk, idly clicking through his files. Her posture was carefully calculated, every inch of her exuding dominance as she looked at files.

“If you’re looking for porn, I keep it on Zeller’s computer to throw off the IT department.”

“Mr. Price, do you know the last time I visited the forensics offices?”

Left without a seat, Jimmy was forced to either stand or take the visitor’s chair. He chose to sit on his desk like a sexy secretary and hoping it would throw Prurnell off her game.

“Gee, I don’t know, ma’am, I’d have to run home and check my diary.”

“Mr. Price, your famed sense of glibness is not the way to go with this meeting.”

“Well then why don’t you tell me what I can do for you, Director Prurnell?”

Prurnell swiveled in Jimmy’s chair, her face hard.

“You, Mr. Price, can give me all the information you’ve collected illegally about the deaths of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. If you do so, I won’t have you thrown in jail.”

Jimmy tensed, but stayed still.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Prurnell leaned forward, eyes glinting.

“Don’t you?”

“Look, um, if he gives you everything he has right now, will you drop everything?” Zeller was in the doorway, hands fidgeting with the credentials pinned to his coat. Price turned to him, eyes wide.

“If they’re all original files, including Dr. Spencer’s blood report, fine.”

“Here.” Zeller held out a folio that Jimmy knew he’d left in his trunk. He seethed as his friend passed nearly a year’s worth of work to the simpering suit who would have it burned.

“Mr. Price, your friend seems to have saved you quite an extensive jail sentence.” Prurnell reviewed the contents of the folio, satisfied, she closed it. “If I were you, I’d thank him. Also? You’ll be up for performance reviews every month for the foreseeable future. I hope you’re prepared, I can be exacting when it comes to the forensics department.”

Jimmy nodded, bile churning in his stomach. He couldn’t look at Zeller, instead he just forced himself to glare impotently at the ground. He listed to Prurnell click her way out of the office in her efficient, ugly heels.

A warm presence settled next to him.

“I’m sorry man. I just wanted to-”

“Please get out of my office.”

“Jimmy, listen, I-”

“Leave my office right now, Mr. Zeller.”

“I made copies.”

Jimmy turned. Brian shrugged.

“I was planning on giving them to Freddie. But I started reading the reports and the conclusions you were making. You’re right, Jimmy. This whole thing reeks. I don’t think they’re dead either.” Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “In fact, uh, I may have added a few notes to the reports. Just some basic stuff. Also you didn’t have a fiber analysis done, so I went ahead and-”

Jimmy kissed him. Brian froze under the clasp of lips, but smiled when they pulled apart.

“I can never tell whether you mean that romantically or not.”

“Thank you, Brian. I…I just wanted someone to listen to me.”

“Ok, well, uh, I am listening.” Brian was an odd pink shade and ducked his eyes. “The copies of the reports are in my apartment. We can go over it all tonight, decide what to do?”

“I’ll pay for takeout.” Jimmy felt light and happy. Zeller patted his knee awkwardly and rose, walking to the door. He paused at the mouth to Jimmy’s office.

“So, uh, are we going to talk about that kiss at all?”

“No.” Jimmy sat at his desk and began to comb through the files Prurnell had opened. He looked up to meet Zeller’s eyes. “But we can talk about the next one.”

Zeller turned and left, a smile playing on his lips.

* * *

_So…UPS says you signed for the package I sent, I’m going to assume that means you’re reading it now, or you’ve chucked it in a fire. I know this is hard, Jack, that you need to believe what you wrote._

_But I need you to see this. I need you to finally see Will and Lecter and all of it. I know you were doing what you thought was best, Jack, but was it? Bev and all those cops…Christ, even Chilton…what did it accomplish? Will and Lecter are alive, Jack. They’re alive and they’re living the life that Beverly should have had._

_If you won’t do something about it. I’m going to._

_I won’t bother you anymore._

* * *

_Molly? Hi! This is Jimmy Price, from the FBI. I, um, I promised you that I would let you know if I found anything. The truth is…uh, I believe that Hannibal Lecter is alive. And if he is, there is a chance that Will is as well._

_I’m sure he loved you, I think that’s why he left with Lecter. To save you and Walter from-_

“Yeah, no.” Zeller rested his chin on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Too dramatic?”

“Entirely.” Zeller put a chip in his mouth.

“I promised her I would tell her.” Jimmy huffed. “And I wish you wouldn’t crunch in my ear, it’s obnoxious.”

Zeller angled his head, pressed his lips to Jimmy’s ear and crunched with gusto. Jimmy swatted at him.

“Write her a letter. Tell her that Will is dead and that you believe Lecter killed him.”

“So, lie.”

“The man she knows is dead, because of Hannibal Lecter.” Zeller shrugged. “It’s true enough. Give that woman some peace. She’s earned it.”

“You’re a bit of a romantic, Brian.” Jimmy glanced down at the potato chip crumbs on the sheets. “And a bit of a mess.”

Zeller patted Jimmy’s shoulder sympathetically. 

“Fuss in the car, come on, we have somewhere to be.”

* * *

The White Gables Motel was a sad stretch of moderately clean rooms along Veteran’s Highway. It had been a mainstay of the trucking community for years, until 97 rendered it almost obsolete. Now, it was the sticky haven for by the hour fucking, paid or otherwise.

Freddie pulled in front of her typical room. She took a minute to check her lipstick and fluff her hair. She raised an eyebrow at the dump before her. Pretty gross, but hopefully she could make this meeting with Zeller quick.

Outside Room 4 stood Zeller, casually leaning on the termite ridden frame. Next to him was a man wearing a trench coat, giant sunglasses, and a scarf around his head.

“What’s with Angie Dickenson over here?” Freddie nodded. Zeller rolled his eyes.

“I told him not to do that. He watches way too many movies.”

“Price, right?”

“My name isn’t important. What is important, is this file.” Jimmy handed it to Freddie. “It’s everything you’ll need to make a compelling case for your Murder Husbands being alive.”

“Jesus.” Freddie looked through the folio in awe. “When I print this, the FBI is going to have kittens, you know that right?”

“Yes,” said Jimmy. “And that’s why I want you to reveal your source: Kade Prurnell.”

“Mr. Price, that’s a very pretty scarf, but I don’t think anyone’s going to buy you as the director of the FBI.”

Jimmy smiled and pointed to the grey sedan with government plates parked at the end of the lot.

“Did you know Ms Prurnell has a weekly meeting with a very married underling?” Jimmy tipped down his glasses. “I imagine you can get some shots of them leaving the room if you wait around a bit longer.”

Freddie took out her camera and took a picture of the car, zooming in to get the license plate.

“Gee, Ms. Prurnell, and I didn’t get you anything.”

“Just publish the damn thing, Ms. Lounds. People need to know.”

“It’ll be uploaded before breakfast, I promise you.” Freddie looked at both men. “I’m assuming our usual arrangement is uh…not going to work this time, Brian?”

Zeller shook his head and took Jimmy’s arm.

“Nah, but thanks Freddie. Jimmy and I have dinner plans.”

Freddie watched the pair get into a waiting cab and pull away from the dilapidated motel. She smiled and took one shot of them from behind, walking arm and arm. Freddie scurried back to her car and began to go through the reports, she had some time before Kade Prurnell emerged.


End file.
